An Impossible World
by Your Loyal Reader2
Summary: When two rival mercenary groups meet in a world that shouldn't be, they compete to determine who is better at what they do.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome everyone, to my newest story! I am working on this with my friend Syweb 2, in that we are writing each chapter of our character's POV of the same events. So, give Syweb2 a look for his side of the story!

Contains elements of:

Pokémon

StarCraft

FNaF

Dr. Who

And many more. Reader Discretion Is Advised

Combat could be considered a delicate dance, the swings, hacking, slashing, the cheap sand-in-the-eye trick, is actually kind of beautiful. In the same way war is an art form. And if you were on Char, during the massive Terran invasion, you might have seen this. A man, clad in a dark blue coat, black pants, heavy boots, and the hat of the mysterious Aura Guardians, doing the delicate blade dance, _dotanuki_ sword in hand… with thin air? But if you had good sight, there was a slight ripple of disturbed air, marking the presence of a Protoss Dark Templar.

That is, if you could process information at 40x normal human speed. For most, this combat was simply a blur of blue and black, of clashing blades. Finally, the leaps, twirls, and swordplay came to an end. The man stood, sword out, as if holding it to a throat. The other hand grappled with something near his stomach.

"Zeratul, decloak." The voice was hard, cold, precise, and deep as well as having that unemotional edge to it. A ripple appeared in front of him, and quickly the invisibility was dropped to reveal a Protoss Dark Templar, adamantium blade at his throat. However, the aliens' psi blade was poking the stomach of the blue-clad human, who was using his strength to keep it out of his body.

"Well done, Zeratul. Few could match that speed and power. You are ready."

"Thank you, Sierra. I look forward to working alongside you in this... Sierra Nevada organization of yours. Now, where are we to go? The planet is overrun with Zerg, and the Terrans are unlikely to welcome either of us." Sierra nodded, and gave the slightest of smiles. His eyes glittered.

"That's just the thing, Zeratul. My ten-year limit by the Covenant is upon us. I now get to choose a universe to hold what passes for a vacation among assassins. LUCAS!" the multiversal assassin shouted. Suddenly, pink bands circled a ten-ft. radius of space a couple of feet away from the pair. The space inside tore to shreds, and out of the blackness strolled a boy about thirteen years old, clad in Sinnoh Trainer garb. His hands were pale, and Sierra could see three ridges quickly sinking into his skin as the boy walked out of the portal.

"You called for a pickup?" the boy said, giving a slight smug smile.

"Not in person, no. Zeratul, meet Lucas Pearl, goddess Palkia's Blessed One and my usual transporter. Lucas, this is Zeratul, the Nevada's newest recruit to the Council and is designated Sierra 5."

"Cool. So, I know you want to have a vacation, and the Author made this really cool world for us to hang out in! Well, it wasn't _our_ Author who did it, but this one's a friend of ours and he wanted us to go there and -"

"Wait." Zeratul interrupted. "I am still fresh in this concept of other universes and these… Authors." The poor Protoss shadow warrior had an aura of confusion about him that washed over Sierra 7.

"All will be explained later, Zeratul. Now, Lucas, that portal leads to this universe, does it not?"

"Yup, it does. Alright friends and coworkers, take a step into the unknown." The boy did a sweeping motion with his hand like a butler ushering in his master.

One Uneventful Walk Later…

The three stood in front of a massive door, ready to stroll in to whatever awaited them. Sierra 7 stopped, for he sensed three powerful auras on the other side, and one of them was…

" _Shade. Should have figured. Well, take it or not leave it, we're stuck here. Even Ascendant has been rebuffed. This universe is sentient. Not good."_ Sierra 7'salternate personality muttered. Unfortunately, even the unemotional personality currently in control felt a professional distaste for the situation. The groups' musings were cut short as the doors creaked open.

"Not THIS again. Anything but THIS."


	2. Chapter 2

As the blinding glare faded from the three assassin's eyes, three figures were framed in the doorway. In the center, a young man, about 6' 4", wearing all black, with chin-length black hair and black eyes, with a somewhat exasperated look on his face, which quickly faded when he saw the trio. To his left was a six-foot woman, with almost shoulder-length black hair, a small spike jutting up from it, and wearing a black t-shirt and charcoal pants. Her orange eyes glowed with psychic power. Lastly was a second man, shorter than the others, wearing a green unzipped hoodie over a purple shirt and lavender pants. His eyes were the strangest thing about him: the sclera was green, with purple irises.

Addressing the man in the center, Sierra 7 struck first.

"Justin Shade, commander of the ShadowLight mercenaries. We meet again, but for the first peaceful time." The shadow elemental grew a wide grin.

"Well, well, yes we do, Sierra. Do you secret-squirrel types mind telling me why you're coming here? It can't be out of a whim." Everyone silently braced for a confrontation, as the woman snarled and uncurled black, bird-like wings. The green-and-purple fashion bomb was a powerful psychic, and began gathering power. And Justin… well, he was one of the only beings who could withstand the attentions of the Ascended One, a god Sierra had unfortunately got stuck to him. More on that later. Then, Lucas popped in to defuse the situation.

"Guys and gal, let's just get these intros out of the way, niceties and alliances established, and just leave eachother alone. We are only here for some fun and to _hopefully_ not kill anyone. We saw what happened _last_ time we were in the same place." The light of combat faded from the assembled's eyes. Then Justin gave a hearty laugh.

"Oh, kid, I like you. You've gots some skills to pull off something like that. Alright." He gestured to the woman, "This is my friend Emily. Well two of 'em anyhow. Sierra, you might know what I'm talking about." Justin indicated the man to his right. "And this here is Psych, our resident super-psychic." He gave a little motion to indicate that it was the Sierra Nevada's turn.

"I assume you already know Zeratul, what from your escapades. However, meet Lucas Pearl, the Blessed One of Palkia and our resident multiverse library." Sierra 7 was deadly calm as he asked the three mercs,

"So, Mr. Shade, shall we take the tour?" It was a long one, as the universe they now inhabited could change form at will, making Lucas have a headache for the entire time. This strange place even lifted places from across the Multiverse in patches, meaning that a large continent of Bionicle was up against a chunk of World of Warcraft, who was trading with a nearby piece of Assassin's Creed. All of this chaos was controlled by the sentient universe itself, meaning that any part of it could warp at any moment.

Surprisingly, it was Psych who started the small talk after three hours of silent walking. "Sierra 7, forgive me if I'm wrong, but if you are not here to slay and pillage, what point is there." The aura assassin casually admitted,

"Actually, there's not much of a point in that regard. However, to protect timelines, the Author requires me by his Covenant to rest every ten years, a vacation if you will." This didn't seem to convince the super-psychic, but it was the truth nonetheless.

However, small talk was not the assassin's goal. Instead setting up a major base here would allow the Nevada a great listening post and a bulwark against a possible ShadowLight war. Sierra 7 and Lucas after finding some level, unoccupied ground on top of a hard-to-reach cave in a slice of some familiar ground: a bit of transplanted Unova. While Zeratul was off conversing with some fellow Protoss, and the ShadowLight mercenaries otherwise occupied with whatever they were doing, now was the chance they needed.

"Lucas! Call forth a base team. This is the universe we've been waiting for. Oh, and bring a pair of Eidolons through. I may need their faith." Lucas smiled and concentrated. The ridges of the natural gauntlets shot through his skin, his feet and legs grew pale as they transformed into Palkia legs, and the illusion holding his tail in check failed. Space tore open in a massive portal, just as the ShadowLights came up through the cave.

"SIERRA! What are you doing! I thought this was a vacation, for crying out loud!" Justin shouted in a rage. However, it was too late, as a fleet of workers, Bonesingers, and Protoss Probes flooded the area. Then resounded the battle cry of one of the most feared forces in this arm of the multiverse:

"FOR THE ASCENDED!"


	3. Chapter 3

Through the portal came two humanoid beings, both clad in armor similar to the one worn by Samus Aran. The first one was human, but the second… ah, that was a problem.

 _(So. They send the new recruit to do business. The piggies will not be pleased.)_ For this other Eidolon was Voidwalker, a "piggy" from Luisitania, a planet in one of the universes of grand Author Orson Scott Card.

Justin Shade now had come up the ramp, and had a clear view of the mass of workers. He did an underhanded throw, and out came a shadow being, with white eyes and a female shape. She bounded through the air gracefully, and pulled a dark javelin from its own essence. This javelin was thrown at Lucas with beautiful accuracy, who was still channeling his powers. The Palkia gijinka was forced to break concentration and duck hastily to the side to avoid being skewered. This canceled the portal and any further reinforcements until it could be reopened. The shadow then took up a warrior's stance, and pulled out a war glaive, a staff with two bladed ends.

 _(She seems well conversed with that weapon. We may need to be careful in how we approach this.)_ That was Sierra's alternate personality, Malcolm; an Aura Guardian turned mercenary.

 _[Never mind physical aspect, that being bleeds psychic energy –likely because it is a construct. I advise caution on the psionic battlefield as well.]_ Sierra 7 replied. The two were snapped out of their reverie when Justin began speaking.

"Meet Emma. Think of her as my second in command; remove me and you still have to deal with her." The two gave a brief gesture. "But enough about _my_ alternate personality disorder. Let's get to the main point." The mercenary leader took a deep, clam breath, although his aura rippled with a powerful rage Sierra could barely think a human could hold.

"This. Is. NOT. A base world. It has not been, nor will it ever be. You will leave it out of our businesses, and keep our disputes away from it. When you will leave, you will act like it never existed. Am I understood?"

 _(So, he's making us do an oath of silence? Does he even know us?)_

 _[Perhaps he has good reason. But if we can't set up a base here, then we lose a valuable listening post. Attempt to barter; this is what you are best at, yes?]_

Apparently Justin was incredibly impatient, for while the two assassins were conversing, he said something and threw out a dagger attached to a chain. This simple but elegant device was then launched into the chestplate of Voidwalker, the Luisitanian recruit. Surprising, as the armor is supposed to be knife and ballistics proof. R&D have some questions to be answered. The rope dart-like weapon then sucked the soldier back, onto the ground in front of Shade. He then proceeded to place a foot on the piggy's chest and draw a combat knife to point at the downed warrior's head.

As the mercenary began giving a lecture, the piggy spoke to Sierra 7. Not vocally, but psionically, as the Sierra Nevada had figured out how to unlock the powerful abilities of the piggies in their second life.

" _Let me go to the third life, Conduit of Ascension, that I may grow into the first of a mighty forest for all of Ascendant's warriors! If my tree would be cut down, Ascendant would claim my soul for His glorious purposes! "_ Ah, yes, the Eidolon Corps. They were fanatical soldiers that came from diverse places. The warriors followed a religion of the Ascendant One, a god Sierra 7 was bonded with. This god had a nasty habit of soul-stealing and meddling in other's affairs; although this did not happen often or would last for very much longer- it was only a teething phase, after all. His soldiers in the Eidolon Corps saw Sierra as a direct pipeline to Ascendant, and practically worshiped the assassin as well.

 _[Fool. You are worth more to Ascendant in your second life than in your third. To be able to act is of the highest priority to a warrior, and to go to the third life would be a failure.]_ That really got to the Eidolon. Nothing horrified them more than failure to do His will. As Shade finished his rant, Sierra merely replied with,

"You have made yourself clear." This satisfied him, who then removed the weapon from the Eidolon's body and stepped back.

"Thank you. Now, did you REALLY think that you were the FIRST one to try and put a base here?" a few of the workers and foolish Lucas nodded.

"Well, you're wrong. There have been FIVE documented attempts, yours being the sixth. All have failed."

Malcom bubbled up. "And I assume you were here to stop them?" he said bluntly.

He snorted. "Who did you think was the second one?" Pause for effect. "I tried! Hell, I worked my ass off just to even get as far as YOU got. Trust me; I was only accelerating the inevitable on this one. I did you guys a FAVOR." Pause for a breath. "Now step off befo-" He never got the chance to finish.

The winged human that was Emily began to go under some kind of psychic trauma. Sierra sensed a powerful spring of energy and purest rage flow through her body, causing her to mutter to herself. The assassins knew that her body would have to morph to contain it. That much hatred was overwhelming, even at a distance to an experienced aura user.

She stood, muttering, "Maim. Hunt. Destroy. Seek. Consume. Devour. Break. Cripple. End. Eat. Slash. Murder. KILL."

 _(Here we go.)_ Her body began its changes. Her feathered wings became bat-like and leathery. The fore- and middle fingers grew together in a not-so-comfortable way, as did the ring fingers and pinkies; making a three fingered hand. Her head became tubular, and the hair stuck to the head like it was painted on. And then, the coloration. Her normally pale skin grew patches of brown, orange, and tan, covering the surface in a camo pattern. Her limbs elongated and thinned out, and her shoes were replaced with three-digit clawed feet. The hands sprouted claws as well. Any human features on the face were flattened and absorbed, and the eyes changed to a deep red. Her mouth was an opening on the top end of the cylindrical head, and it was ringed with sharp teeth. Overall, Sierra noticed, it followed conservation of mass.

The new monstrosity began to pant, and searched the environment with the predator's eye. It then shoved Justin aside, and leapt onto, of all things, one of the Protoss probes that the Nevada had brought. The former Emily began drooling powerful acid that smoked in the air. The slobber burst the plasma shield of the tiny robot and made short work of it. All that remained of the probe was a greenish-yellow puddle. The creature screeched with victory, just as Zeratul, who had returned from his errand, came from behind and sliced the monster in half.

The cut was a beautiful one, and it took a while for it even to bleed. When it did, though, the torso slid forward off of the legs and _thmp_ ed on the ground. The legs stayed up for a little while longer before they, too, fell backwards.

The being known as Psych teleported up onto the mesa, and simply gave Zeratul a look.

"I did what was necessary." Said the Dark Prelate, as that was all that was necessary to say.

"And I commend you for that." said Psych, who kicked the corpse into the pool of acid, which was apparently still volatile. It quickly dissolved the flesh and bones. "It'll clear itself out."

 _(That corpse would have been useful. An untainted sample of the acid would not be remiss as well.)_

 _[That is precisely why the cadaver was destroyed. It contained valuable research that we cannot have.]_

The being then warped space using his psychic abilities, and made a little pocket dimension.

 _[Cut him off.]_ Sierra said to Lucas. The boy had the ability to control space; he was usually able to cancel teleports and dimensional rifts.

" _I can't. I am too tired; plus, he's got a psi lock on it- something I don't have power over."_

In any case, the ShadowLight psionic created a window to his dimension.

"See this? This is a window into a pocket dimension." The assembled company looked at him warily. "What's IN that pocket dimension, you may ask? It's simple: a basic resource, nothing too complex, though they DO have an interesting crystal structure. You simply call them Minerals."

 _(Yup. Here we go again.)_ The assembled probes all turned to look at Shade at the mention of their primary job in life. A devilish smile grew onto the mercenary's face.

"These are ALL of yours. I'll only be taking them for analysis, but in the meantime, you won't Have Enough Minerals." Psych then gave a loud and sustained laugh as he teleported away.

 _[Lucas?]_

" _Still psionic. And quite elegant, too."_

During the monologue, Justin had been sneaking up from behind. But when Psych teleported away, the mercenary's jaw dropped. He then turned his head to look at Sierra 7.

 _(3)_

 _[2]_

 _([1])_

"It's going to be one of THOSE days, isn't it?" the leaders said in unison.


	4. Chapter 3 Pt 2

Now, normally the Nevada assassins would have simply turned tail and fled to the shadows to assess the situation. But special times called for special measures. The weak alliance with the ShadowLight mercenaries offered a… unique opportunity. After commanding the builders to vacate the area and call an evac, Sierra, Lucas, and Zeratul set off with Justin on a mutual manhunt.

They had been walking for a while when the group came upon a white expanse, littered with white cubes and rectangular prisms. The blocks were strange, formed of a matte black material and of sizes varying from child's letter blocks to mansions. All had some kind of black label on them, such as "Politically Incorrect".

" _Lucas? Report."_

" _I think they are some kind of portal gate. They resonate with a frequency similar to that of a Khaydarin crystal."_ Hmmm. That changed everything. Before long, the group came to one of the blocks, one marked "/b/".

"We don't go there. Ever." Remarked Justin.

This piqued Lucas's curiosity. "Why's that?"

"We. DON'T. Go in there." The mercenary repeated sternly.

Of course, one does not say this to one with the maturity of a fifteen year old child. "But why?" Lucas prodded. At this, Shade looked quite flustered. He took a calming breath, and cast his gaze about the assembled party with a grim face.

"That box is known by some as the random zone. That box," pause for effect, very good, "is home to some of the worst depravity, hostility, and abusiveness that terrestrial humans can muster. THAT BOX," he paused again, visibly shaking from the powerful scarlet rage blooming inside him, his arm dropping beside him and clenching into a fist; "IS WHERE THE SCUM OF THE EARTH GO FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES! And I swear, I SWEAR, if any of us goes into that hellhole, if you return, you will not be the same. A calming breath. "So don't go in there, okay?" And the mercenary spun on his heels and marched off into the distance.

As Lucas and Sierra caught up to him, the assassin noticed someone standing in front of the /b/ block. It seemed to be a teenage boy, sapphire blue hair and same color eyes on a pale body dressed in white cargo shorts and a dark blue t-shirt. From the familiar tug of his mind, it was the Author.

 **[Morning, Sierra.]**

[Morning, Author.] Came the psychic reply.

 **[You know, I went there once. Shade is quite right on what he says. Although there was-]**

 _[Author!]_ Sierra cut him off. _[There is no need for this! Vacate my sight. I have work to do.]_ And with that, the Ascendant Conduit turned and followed his companions to the area they were at. When he found them, they were in front of another white box.

"Gentlemen, I present to you," the warlord Justin swept his arms around in a grand gesture, "the team-based combat-scenario randomizer. You can just call it the Combat Randomizer.' He pushed on a section, opening u a door in the base. He swept them like an usher. "Please, after you."

Inside the building, there were four doors that Lucas identified as some kind of portal or dimensional gate. They were, from right to left, Offence, Defense, Random, Spectator. Offence was orange, Defense was cyan, Spectator was grey, and Random was brown.

Justin apparently had a plan prepared. "I know Psych well enough to figure that this will be the most likely place he will be. However, that is as far as my knowledge goes. As such, we will have to search for him manually. He never spectates, so that leaves two options: offence and defense. We'll split up to cover more ground."

As this was being said, Sierra imperceptibly shifted in bearing. Now that he had someone else in charge for once in a long time, it was also someone whom he had a particular grudge match with when it came to strategy. But the assassin would let that slide, for now.

Shade continued. "Seven, you and Zeratul will take defense. Lucas and I will go offence. Now because this activity has rules, you will actually have to contribute to your team's objective. So, each of our groups has two goals: first, help your team. Follow orders, cooperate, and work together to help achieve victory." One could almost hear the added 'and all that stuff' from Lucas. "Second, look for Psych. Because he is immediately recognizable, you won't have to pour all of your energy into it. Just look out for him."

He took a deep breath. "Now, let me tell you something about this activity. Any and all special abilities you have out there will be overwritten once you join. Zeratul can't cloak or blink, Lucas can't do Palkia stuff, I can't use my shadow powers, and Seven can't do the bullshit that Ascendant grants him. You will also lose access to your weaponry. These sacrifices will be replaced by randomly selected powers and equipment from all across the multiverse. You can end up with any combination. And by any, I mean ANY combination. Think of it as armory roulette."

The mercenary turned towards the Offence door. He stopped and turned, "Oh, and two other things: if you die in there, you will be revived within five to thirty seconds at the "Spawn Room". That's why these matches take so long. And each team consists of twenty members. Expect crazy crap to go down." And at that, he left Zeratul and Sierra Seven both somewhat confused as to the nature of this place. As they entered the area, Sierra was immediately assailed by any sensations. The first being that his aura energies seemed unusually distant; the second was that he missed the weight of the custom gun and sword on his hip and the throwing knives in the sleeves of the coat.

At first glance, it seemed like a motley crew. An Australian in one corner pissing in a jar, two little Zebesian pirates, a heavy muscle-bound giant, three 40k Orks, one angelic looking being, about six humanoid creatures of varying sizes, Lucian from Runeterra, and three normal humans. Seeing a cabinet across the back wall, Sierra reached inside to find three cubes laid out on a shelf. After taking hold of them, they turned into an axe, a device called a 'medigun', and the energy glaive thrower of the Daeelam Adepts. After shouldering the pack that came with the medigun, one of the Orks approached him along with the heavy man.

"Oi! Oiz sayz you'se gonna give me somma dem healins' wit dat der medidakka. Oight?" came the gruff question from the Ork.

"I will do what I can where I can, Ork. And if 'where' is with you, then very well." The Ork seemed pleased although confused by his answer. Looking back, Zeratul had received an Xcom Plasma Sniper and some kind of pistol, along with a stick grenade for a melee weapon. Fate just isn't nice sometimes.

And as the gate opened to what seemed to be a control point defense, Sierra set his sights on the long haul healing this smelly Ork. Off on his lonesome, Zeratul settled into a niche in a Cliffside of the canyon, his hooved Protoss feet really helping his decent. Lo and behold, but who would show his face but Justin Shade. Taking the smart approach and hiding behind cover. Little did he know he was in the DT's sights…


	5. Chapter 4

To say the Sierra was frustrated would not do the assassin's feelings justice. He had died a total of six times, most of them being incredibly stupid deaths from strange weapons he had never seen before - like a tube of wrapping paper that Ridley used to throw Christmas ornaments around. How did _wrapping paper_ deal enough damage to kill someone? But I digress. The weirdest part was that the whole ordeal was strangely cathartic, despite the chaos and the fact the Sierra never got a single normal pistol or sniper rifle, but some special one from a far-off universe. Although Malcolm took delight in exhibiting all of their frustrations on Lucas over the centuries.

Like how on his fourth life he had set up shop with a pair of droideka blasters attached to his wrists at a choke point, gunning down any opponent who stood there for long enough to be seen. Some tried to scale the canyon walls to go around him or launch rockets to disable the weapons and throw up a smokescreen, but to no avail; there was a pair of people, one with infinite Xcom medkits and the other a medigun, plus the will to stand amidst a hail of bullets to heep healing one guy. Justin Shade died three times to the this hilarious setup before someone had managed to gain an invisibility cloak and kill both the medics before Sierra could react. That was when the hail of sixteen rockets sailed through the canyon, obliterating him.

On his seventh life (how prophetic) Sierra Seven finally received his sniper rifle. It was, of all things, something the others called a "Sydney Sleeper". It was a dart gun where all of the darts were soaked in urine, which for some reason here meant that the target would take more damage from everyone else. A small wrist-mounted crossbow and a wooden quarterstaff completed the loadout. But wait- a stopwatch with the words "Dead Ringer" etched on the back- yes, it is one of the invisibility watches he had been seeing! Time to put it to good use. Again, no logic to the construction of some of these weapons- how did piss make you critable? Ah, those were question for another time. As Sierra left the spawn point to once more defend the final point from incursion, he cast his gaze around the arena, knowing that his quarry was somewhere within; it was all the assassin could do to keep himself from abandoning the game to find him.

Which is quite what it looked like when he radioed, "I have a sniper weapon. I will be trying to find a spot over the choke point of the last control point and camp there. It may take me a while to do so." This set off a flurry of radio chatter from the veterans of the Randomizer, although the most veteran of them eventually made everyone quiet down. This have Sierra the opening he needed to sprint for a mineshaft he saw earlier. Now, these things had blocked off sections, but these sections seemed traversable. Taking a leap of faith, Sierra broke down the boards and went in. He navigated the single tunnel for a while, until it began to make a steep ascent towards some kind of light source.

Coming up on the light source, he found it to be a large room carved from the dull brown stone around him, lit by a doorway-shaped gap in the rock on the far side. Outside led to a small and narrow balcony, which overlooked the last control point and most of the path leading up to it. He could see the three humans, the tower of muscle, and the angel holding down the point against Lucas with an infinite amount of throwing stars, something he had never mastered, and a High Templar with an assault rifle banging away at a stone wall the wall-of-meat man was keeping continuously repaired by hitting it with a golden hammer. Again, just the opening he needed to get the job done.

But the multiversal assassin wasn't the only person inside the rock room. Sitting against one of the walls, with a blue toolbox in his lap, was that infernal being Psych. The object of this search and part of the whole adventure Now, nothing was stopping him from killing this man, then killing himself and catching him at the spawn point. But a sly and admittedly quite happy glance from the psychic proved those feelings moot.

"Psych. I have been searching for you for a long time. What's in the box, and how will it help?" Seek to distract him, focus on the game at hand.

"Well, buddy chum pal old friend, this here box contains a Ghost Academy miniature. Complete, I might add, with a nuke installed. All you have to do is make an escort quest out of this while I build it." Again, the sly look came over his face. Apparently, this was part of a greater plan of the bastard. He continued in a mocking tone, "But, since you have found me, by the honorable rules of the game known as hide-and-seek, I have lost. But don't expect this kind of niceness again, old man." Both of them smiled.

 _[Well, I suppose we should be off. There is no reason for us to be here, now is there? we have secured the Principle and also followed the rules of the game.]_ Sierra said to his alternate personality Malcolm.

 _(Not quite. We still have a ways to go in terms of this defence- besides, we have never called down a nuke before!)_

They never could have argued longer, as stray rockets came their direction, and it fell on Sierra Seven to snipe them out of the air. A few humanoid creatures also took notice, and took darts and subsequently thwacks with a quarterstaff to various painful places, face included. Things were going well, and upon completion of the project, Psych announced,

"Alright Sierra, send them to a piss-soaked hell!" Not knowing the full extent of that statement, Sierra asked,

"Why do you say that? Does the kind of gun aff-"

"KILL THE BASTARDS!" came the strangled reply. Somehow, one of the enemies had found the mine entrance and was using a garrote to kill Psych. Ah well, you were immortal here anyway. A quick blow with a staff ended both their struggles. And well that he called Sierra's attention, as the full enemy team had assembled, including the ones Sierra had killed, firing rockets and all sorts of bullets at the wall, nearly breaking it. The thing would not survive the next salvo. So, Sierra used the laser sight on the gun to sync with the nke, and sighted it in on the High Templar's smug face.

What happened next could only be described as the worst possible outcome the assassin would have predicted. A bomb dropped from the sky, fair enough, but when it detonated, things got… messy. As in, a giant mushroom cloud of urine exploded from the bomb, the pressure wave killing most of the attackers and drenching the rest in it. The wall and a few of Sierra's allies were also killed, but survivors avoided the drenching of excreta. The punishment they delivered on the survivors of the enemy team was glorious to behold. And Sierra helped, although the main selling point of the rifle he used was useless due to the fact that the enemies now had more piss on them than kitty litter. But the extra damage from his gun helped - at least, he thought it did. They all died so quickly anyway.

True to his word, they all got the psychic message, "USER HAS QUIT THE GAME" from the handy female announcer that talked to them. So, the gang of unlikely allies came out of the randomizer, Psych in tow, ready to drag him back to the plateau that the Sierra Nevada assassin has chosen for a field camp. It was time to grill this man for stealing his stuff and if he could make Psych give it back, all the better.

That was the plan, until Sierra heard the sound of rushing air and whining energy - someone invisible to his aura sense was charging an ability. But before he could get out of the way, the thing fired, fast as light or faster, and a beam of purest life and most solemn death incinerated the group. Sierra was thrown into a black abyss, but felt himself being pulled in a dozen directions at once, until one stabilized. The spectral assassin materialized in the same room he had arrived in the universe in. It seemed that everyone else had also been killed, and Lucas and Zeratul were struggling to banish from their minds what had just happened.

Justin pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "It seems Tiffany is rather angry with us."


End file.
